A Beautiful Death
by Jason Thompson
Summary: ReachFic, B312. As the Covenant burns Reach and the Pillar of Autumn escapes, Noble Six is left to do the one thing he was born to do. Fight.


**A Beautiful Death**

A Halo Fan-fiction Story

Author: Jason Thompson

September 15, 2010

Disclaimer: Once upon a time there was a guy he wrote a story with characters and settings he didn't own, but he put a disclaimer on his story and that made it a little less illegal. Halo is owned by Bungie, Microsoft Game Studios and 343 Studios.

Category: Spartan-B312 (Noble Six)

Spoilers: Halo: Reach.

Warnings: Character Death.

Summery: As the Covenant burns Reach and the _Pillar of Autumn_ escapes, Noble Six is left to do the one thing he was born to do. Fight.

Rating:

Distribution: Ask First.

Notes:

Dedication: Dedicated to the usual suspects; Genova aka Schweet, Bri, Mary, Duchess, Dale, Blaire, Red, Stone Cold, Ice Wing, Silent Bob, Arashi, Aslan, Vega, Tony D, Jen Zimmer, Louise, Sairs, and Queen Angel who have allowed me to bounce my ideas off them, and Krac, cause she has the evil bunny slippers.

**A Beautiful Death**

The _Pillar of Autumn_ had long since disappeared into the clouds, taking with it some vague hope for continued human survival. The Autumn was one of a few ships to make it off Reach, and likely the last to do so. Reach was soon to be a dead world, if it wasn't already.

The world was once called a Crown Jewel of human colonies and it was going to be nothing more than a sheet of glass very soon.

He was born here, not literally but in the ways that count. He was born on Earth and lived grew up with parents and lived a generally normal life until he joined the UNSC and was conscripted into the SPARTAN-III program. From there he went to Onyx and had he not come here just a few weeks ago, he might have said he was "born" on Onyx when he became a Spartan.

He'd been trained and enhanced into the perfect soldier, and excelled from there. The skills and ruthlessness that earned him a spot in the program were only strengthened by the Spartan program enhancements and soon drew the attention of the ONI brass.

They pulled him out of Beta Company and turned him into the perfect assassin. He was used to put down so many terrorist and militia groups that he'd lost count. He was a killer, cold-blooded and solitary. In a way he was a failure by Spartan standards. Spartans were meant to operate in teams, being called a "Lone Wolf" was a bit of an insult among the S-IIIs and he was the ultimate Lone Wolf.

Carter had even referred to it when he arrived on Reach. Telling him to leave it behind, and with the resolve that he'd come to rely on while he worked for ONI he did just that. That was why he felt he was born here, he was finally a Spartan.

Now, just a month after his birth, he was going to do as Jorge, Kat, Carter and Emile had already. He was going to die like a Spartan.

The glassing of New Alexandria had kicked up a cloud of dust which was settling around him, leaving things hazy. It looked like an early morning fog had rolled in; distantly he thought it was almost soothing.

Even through the haze, he could make out movement coming towards him. The death squads were moving through, killing anything they came across. From the start it seemed that the attack on Reach was different, perhaps they knew about whatever Dr. Halsey had and were still trying to find. He didn't know, frankly he didn't care.

If the Covenant was looking for something, he was going to give them something to find. His DMR was fully loaded and he had a couple of clips left, his pistol was also fully loaded and he had to spare clips. There was a dead marine a few feet away, still clutching his assault rifle. He plucked the rifle from cooling fingers and attached it to one of the magnetic strips on his back. Looking up he saw a pair of mounted turrets on the platform nearby his DMR soon followed the assault rifle as he climbed the steps onto the platform.

He took control of the turret and swung it towards a patrol of grunts and opened fire. Moments later, the unggoy were crying out in terror. He hit one's methane tank and ignited it sending all the grunts flying.

He followed one of the fleeing grunts and continued firing just behind it as it led him directly to a group of kig-yar. A harsh smirk stretched his lips as he continued firing, hearing the death cries of the jackals was supremely satisfying after all the trouble he'd had with them over the years. He managed to bull's-eye one between its eyes as it cocked back its arm to throw a grenade and the rest of the group was caught up in the ensuing plasma explosion.

He swung the turret around towards the sound of angered jiralhanae. The group of brutes was quickly cut down, including one of the chieftains. Its gravity hammer tumbled to the ground at nearly the same time as its corpse.

Several plasma rounds whizzed past his head. He spun the turret towards the fire to find a group of approaching elites and he made a quick decision. He grabbed the turret by the carrying handle on the top and gave one quick jerk. With the whine of tearing bolts and ammo feeders, the turret came loose and he started firing again even as he hopped from the platform. He tried to shuffle from side to side as he fired to evade the incoming plasma and needle rounds, all the while he cut down dozens of covenant troops.

His enhanced hearing heard the sound of an energy sword igniting behind him; he spun the still firing turret in a wild arc into the path of the sword. The sword made quick work of his weapon but it took the elite by surprise. This gave him enough time to surge forward, he took a firm grip on the back of the elite's head and one of it mandibles, another sharp jerk like the one that wrench the turret free of it mount and his faceplate was sprayed with indigo blood.

The sangheili was dead before he hit the ground and forgotten at the same time. The Spartan had already pulled his DMR and opened fire. Single shots rang out and each ended the life of an attacking covenant trooper.

Fifteen rounds later, he lobbed a grenade out and popped the now empty clip. Even as the frag grenade blew up in front of a group of unggoy, a stray plasma shot struck his face plate, his shields were strong enough to deflect most of the energy but it still spider-webbed his plate.

He reloaded and continued firing.

A plasma grenade landed and his feet causing him to jump back with the explosion.

He continued firing.

A jackal fired an over-loaded plasma round and crashed his shields as he exhausted his second clip.

He reloaded and continued firing.

His DMR ammo counter reached zero his shields rebooted and powered up at nearly the same moment, he cast the DMR aside and threw another grenade. Another elite charged him with a sword, he pulled the knife he kept strapped to his chest armor and ducked the elite's swing then he attacked.

He'd studied ONI's anatomy files on each of the covenant races extensively; their weak points had been drilled into every Spartan's brains until every kill point was known at an instinctual level. As a result he didn't even realize that he'd in an underhand grip and drove it up between the elite's mandibles, piercing the roof its mouth all the way into the brain.

The elite made a strange gurgling noise as it collapsed, taking his knife with its corpse. The Spartan didn't even notice.

He pulled the assault rifle and kept firing.

Finally several grunts threw plasma grenades, blowing him off his feet. His ears rang and his vision blurred and he flew backwards. He landed hard on his back, and for just a moment his vision went black. He shook his head and saw yellow sky above from behind a completely cracked faceplate.

He managed to push himself up to one knee then cast off his helmet. Just ahead of him was his assault rifle and an approaching elite firing a plasma rifle. He darted forward while ducking plasma fire and grabbed his rifle, the second his fingers curled around the handle he was firing.

The elite was quickly downed but a zealot had snuck up on him with a sword. The gold-armored elite was met with his forearm, strong enough to put the hulk beast on its. He switched his rifle into his left hand and pulled his magnum to put two rounds in the zealot's head before he put his pistol back on his thigh and continued firing with his rifle. A second later he took a shot to his chest. He reached across his body and pulled the magnum with his left hand.

He killed two more elites before a third knocked him onto his back. He saw yellow sky again for just a moment before the elite who had knocked him down jumped on top of him. The elite was met with a boot to the chest. A crimson-armored major elite jumped on top of him next, only to receive a right cross for the trouble. The elite major staggered back for just a moment.

The silver-armored elite was on top of him again, holding him down as the elite major approached with his sword. He struggled against the alien holding him down. He'd make them work for every second of his life.

As the major loomed over him, the last thing Spartan-B312 was two elites. As the major stabbed him in the chest he was sure he saw a grudging respect shining in their eyes.

He knew nothing after that.


End file.
